You are not Alone
by Wildwolf12337
Summary: High School AU. After his only friend moves away, Dan is depressed. Can his secret crush, Phil Lester, make him realize that he isn't alone? Fluffy Phan. Rated for self-harm and brief bullying. Cute ending.


Disclaimer: I do not own the YouTubers Dan Howell and Phil Lester, nor do I claim that Phan is real. This is merely for fangirls to feel feelings.

* * *

**DAN POV**

I felt the near constant burn, physically and mentally, as I walked into school this morning. The sleeves of my sweater would chafe against the fresh lines slashed haphazardly into the scarred skin of my arms at every miniscule movement. I had promised myself I wouldn't cut again. That I was _clean_.

But then he moved.

My best friend, PJ. We had known each other for years. He had been the only one keeping me sane during my mission through Hell, commonly known as school. Anytime I was being bullied, or I was just generally feeling down, he was there for me. I had gotten through most of my life knowing he had my back. He gave me confidence. He gave me protection. He gave me comfort.

Without him, I am entirely defenseless and alone.

I mean, I'm not a total pushover. I _try_ to stand up for myself. I _want_ to stand up for myself; I despise the fact that I'm so dependent. It can just get considerably complicated when you suffer from severe social anxiety. And this leads to my initial problem; my addiction.

It started in Middle School. I had always been alienated, but I was fine with it. What's better than being alone when you can't speak to someone without stuttering and panicking? I had gotten used to having no friends and being ignored. Then, in Seventh grade, I was persuaded by my therapist to try to overcome my anxiety and try to socialize. I became friends with a boy named Alex. We hit it off from the start; into the same video games, shows, movies, music. And slowly but surely, I had unconsciously fallen for him. At the time I had been questioning my sexuality (I had no interest in girls) and when I realized how I felt about Alex, it didn't bother me. Except there was still an obstacle.

Alex was _most definitely _straight.

But somehow, one thing led to another, and I ended up kissing him.

I know, not a very smart move on my part. And I didn't know that this little slip of control would cost me so much.

Alex, to say the least, was pissed. Completely and irrevocably pissed, not to mention thoroughly disgusted. He shoved me off of him, socked me square in the jaw, and ran to the bathroom, subsequently rinsing out his mouth with soap. I still sat on his couch in shock, then when I finally realized _what I had done_, I was horrified. I had jumped up to apologize, but Alex wouldn't even let me near him. He started shouting horrible things, calling me a filthy fag and saying I was going to rot in Hell. I ended up running out his front door in tears, sprinting to my house, and locking myself in my bedroom.

No one saw me for two weeks.

I didn't eat. I barely slept. Tear stains tattooed my face. My throat was raw from the sobbing. My mother begged me to let her in, to explain what happened, to eat the food she brought so I wouldn't starve. I just ignored her and stared out my window, watching the day go by. Even if I tried to eat, it would probably just come back up. Thanks to my stocked mini fridge I didn't dehydrate, but by the time I finally came out I was terribly malnourished and had dropped some pounds. After that day, they got the lock removed from my door.

When I was forced to return to school, it felt as if the whole student population had turned against me. Name calling, insulting, spreading rumors, shoving, ignoring, getting beat up while walking home. Apparently, Alex had told all of his friends a dramatized version of me 'trying to rape him' and that I planned to 'turn them all Gay'. And lies like these travel fast.

When I got home from that rough day, covered in bruises and blood and filth, I locked myself in the bathroom and cried.

I seem to have been doing that a lot back then.

And in that bathroom, I found a box of new razor blades. I knew it wasn't a good idea. I knew it would snowball and I would regret it in the long run. I just didn't _care_. I had heard that it helps; maybe only temporarily, but I was desperate for any kind of pain, any kind of punishment for what I had done. What I am. And that seemed like the most obvious option.

That was the first day I cut.

I only did a few down my left forearm, nothing deep. Just testing the waters. Nothing compared to what I do now.

This went on for another year. By then, I had created my canvas; up and down the insides of my arms, the insides of my thighs, and my hips. I was pretty skilled at hiding them. I wore a baggy sweatshirt and jeans every day. I sat out at P.E. so I didn't have to dress out. I thought no one would ever find them.

Then PJ saw.

I had only briefly met PJ in Language Arts class. He was the only one who would talk to me without spewing insults. We'd been chosen as partners for a class assignment. At one point he had grabbed my arm, noticed me wince, and ripped my sleeve up when he realized what most likely caused me pain. I ran out the door and cried in the boys bathroom for the rest of the period.

Again with the crying?

I was so terrified that he would tell somebody. Then not only would I be the 'faggot that sexually harasses straight boys', I would be the 'suicidal freak faggot that sexually harasses straight boys'. Not much of a promotion.

Surprisingly, though, he didn't. He sought me out after school, forced me to tell him everything, and that was that. After that day we were friends. He tried to keep me clean and I gave him someone to play video games with. We progressed into the same high school and when the bullying started up again, he stood up for me. We hung out every day and never left each other's sides. I never felt feelings for him; he was just a best friend to me. A brother. Then, towards the end of 10th grade, his father got a promotion that moved them to the other side of the country.

That brings me back to present day.

As I walked into my first period, Biology, my brown eyes shot straight to the back of the classroom. Sadly, the objective of my search wasn't in his regular seat. I dragged myself over to my lab table and plopped down on the tall stool. I was the only one in class that didn't have a partner. Don't get me wrong; the teacher had assigned people (yes, plural) to sit with me, but no one would deal with it. Each and every one ended up moving until the teacher gave up and left me to my own devices. I actually enjoyed it this way; at least I didn't have some bully jock copying off of me and harassing me the whole class.

The teacher stood from his desk chair and was about to start his lesson when rapid knocks sounded from the classroom door. Mr. Westfall sighed and went over to open it. My breath caught when I heard that voice.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! I've had the most horrible morning! First my hamster escaped, then I burnt my bagel, then I missed my bus, then-"

"Mr. Lester, I am tired of your extravagant excuses. Detention after school today. Be at my office." Mr. Westfall huffed and returned to his spot at the head of class.

"Yes sir!"

A boy with the most gorgeous sky blue eyes and the softest looking night black hair rushed inside.

Phil Lester. My crush since I started attending high school. He was a senior, and everyone loved him. He wasn't exactly popular per se, but he was well known as 'that kid that is always happy'.

I had started liking him a few weeks into 9th grade. PJ had been home sick one day and when the bullies noticed the 'fag's protector' wasn't around, they couldn't leave this opportunity unchecked. I was getting beat up in the gym locker room. They justified my beating with ' he was checking us out with his queer eyes' (Trust me, I wouldn't even _want _to look. Big buff jocks _aren't_ my type. I'm into nerdy blue eyed boys with blinding smiles.). I was getting it pretty bad; blood was starting to seep through my grey pullover around my stomach, most likely from my cuts getting reopened. Not that they would know that.

Out of nowhere I heard a shout and the blows ceased. I opened my tightly shut eyes and searched for my savior. That was the first time I laid eyes on Philip Lester. He had scared off my oppressors (having most everyone like you and on your side had its perks). He walked over to me and helped me up, offering to take me to the nurse. I refused, obviously, and we parted ways, never to speak again.

It may have been insignificant to him, but that day changed me. The curiosity to find out more about my knight in shining armor was eating away at me. I followed his Twitter, and his Tumblr, and his Facebook... and his YouTube account (I'm not a stalker I swear). Eventually, as I got to know him from afar, I developed feelings for him. And it wasn't that little petty puppy love crush like with Alex. Whenever I see him my heart races and my breath quickens and I get extremely self conscious (when it first started happening I thought my anxiety was relapsing). But as far as he's concerned, I don't even exist. I'm just that fag that everyone beats on. I was absolutely too nervous to even sputter out a word, and I was pretty sure he didn't even like guys, so I just watched from in the distance.

Anyways, back to the biology lab.

Phil turned to get into his chair at the other side of the room when he stopped suddenly. Curious, I glanced back. Someone was sitting in his seat.

"Mr. Westfall, I don't have anywhere to sit." Phil announced.

"Oh, err... sit with Daniel over there."

My heart stopped and the class went silent.

"...Yes sir."

I quickly turned forward and bowed my head, causing my fringe to fall over the left side of my face, which luckily was the side Phil would be sitting on. Hopefully it would hide my flushed red complexion. I saw movement out from behind my dark brown hair and felt someone sit on the other stool, which stood extremely close. As class began I was a nervous wreck. My body was tense as a board, my foot incessantly tapped in a unrecognizable beat, I could hear my pulse in my ears, and my stomach felt fluttery (Okay slight understatement. My stomach was a fucking flock of birds). This was going to be a long class period.

Suddenly I felt someone poke my side, causing me to flinch noticeably.

"Sorry."

I turned my burning face to look at Phil, speaking up awkwardly.

"Hi."

Great second-first impression.

It didn't seem to faze him though, and as I studied his features for the first time this close, I noticed his face had a slight pink tint as well.

Why would he be blushing? Does he... like me? Dan you idiot why would someone like him like someone like you?

"I'm Phil Lester." he announced.

"I know."

My eyes widened.

Wait.

Did.

I.

Just.

Say.

That.

Out.

Loud?

Idiot idiot idiot!

Then, unexpectedly, a smile crept onto Phil's face, and I swear he was definitely blushing.

"And I know you are Daniel Howell."

"Just Dan." I blurted out, face flushing hotter.

"Dan." Phil gave this adorable little smirk and my heart felt like it was soaring.

"Mr. Lester, Mr. Howell, would you please pay attention to the lesson?" Mr. Westfall interrupted, causing me to tear my gaze from the sky blue hues.

During the lesson my eyes would flicker towards Phil. Every time, I would catch him watching me, causing my face to heat up.

What is going on? Why is he staring? Does he actually like me? Or is there something on my face?

I brought a hand up and caressed my features, but I wasn't focused on actually searching for something on my face. No, I was inconspicuously watching Phil watch the trail of my hand.

Is he really that interested in me?

Getting caught up in the moment, I failed to realize my stroking caused my loose sweater sleeves to fall lower down my wrist. But I noticed Phil's eyes widening in shock.

What's wron... oh. Oh. OH.

Pulling my sleeves down quickly and grasping them tightly in my fists, I raised a hand.

"Yes Daniel?"  
"C-c-can I g-go to th-the b-b-bathroom?" I stuttered out, eyes burning with the threat of tears.

"Is it an emergency?"

"Y-yessir."

"Go."

I shot up from my seat, grabbing my backpack. Keeping my head low I rushed out the door and sprinted to the Men's room.

You _idiot_! You complete _idiot_! How could you let that happen?! How could you let him _see_?!

Tears were running down my face by the time I swung open the bathroom door. Luckily, no one was in there. I reached a sink and grasped the rims tightly, leaning over it. Sobs racked my body, and I squeezed the glass harder, part of me hoping it would shatter and slice my skin.

You deserve it. You deserve the cuts and much worse. Did you see how horrified Phil looked? How could you do that to him? The guy you love? He deserves so much better than you!

I bent down and ripped open my bag. Sticking my hand in a hidden pocket, I felt a small metallic object. I took it in my grip and clutched it tightly, feeling it cut into my palm. The door shot open abruptly and I looked up, eyes widening in terror when they met beautiful blue.

We stood there, staring into each other's eyes. Silent tears still rolled down my flushed cheeks and the pain in my palm was steadily getting worse. Phil's eyes broke the stare, glancing at my hand. He then lunged forward and attempted to wrench open my fingers. I tried to tear my hand out of his grasp but he was stronger than me. Without warning Phil squeaked in pain, face screwing up slightly. I immediately spread open my hand, the blade falling to the floor with a clang. I noticed a small gash on Phil's hand.

You... you caused that! You caused him pain!

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." I frantically ran my hands through my hair, tugging at it roughly.

Phil's eyes flashed with something I couldn't identify and out of nowhere his arms were wrapped around my neck. My breath caught.

Wha-what? How is he not revolted by me?

He squeezed tighter, hands fisting into my sweater and face burrowing into the crook of my neck. I felt a slight wetness and realized he was crying.

He's crying... for me?

Working up the strength, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer, if that was possible. Too soon Phil pulled back. He forced me to meet his eyes.

"You are not alone."

At those four insignificant words, the dam in my control broke. I pulled him forward, lips meeting roughly. At first I expected it to result like the one with Alex. I braced myself for the sure-fire rejection.

But it never came.

Phil's lips moved against mine, expressing equivalent passion and love. He tugged me closer and pressed my back against the wall. We broke apart when air became a necessity. Our foreheads stayed pressed against each other.

"I know we kind of just met properly for the first time... but I really like you." Phil whispered.

A smile stretched across my face for the first time in a long while and I pecked his bruised lips again.

"I really like you too."

"Good, because I don't know how I would have coped if you had rejected me." Phil chuckled nervously.

He was afraid _I _would reject _him_? Is he insane?!

"I swear I thought I was about to be murdered when I kissed you." Dan confessed, face heating up.

Phil smiled and laughed once again, but then a certain look crossed his face and the smile subsided.

"Dan..."

"...Yeah?"

Softly, Phil reached and grabbed my arm. I gasped and went to pull away but he pressed his lips against mine again, halting my actions. He pulled away and glanced down, slowly sliding my sleeves up.

This is it... he's probably going to see your cuts and be sickened. He's going to take back his confession an-

My thought process was cut off as soft lips pressed against the scabby and scarred inside of my left wrist. He peppered gentle kisses all the way up my arm, then moved on to the next one. I could only stare in awe.

"How- How are you not disgusted by me? I'm covered in ugly scars." I spoke up.

His eyes shot up to meet mine.

"You are beautiful, Dan. These cuts are a part of you, therefore, they are beautiful too. No, I don't agree with your habit, but I think I'd be able to help you if you'd allow me to try." he whispered against my skin.

A small smile formed on my lips.

"Is that your sly way of asking me out?"

"May-be."

"Then yes, I'll let you try."

* * *

The next day, I arrived to class early. Caught up in the book I was reading, I didn't notice a certain beauty sit beside me, but I did notice the blood red rose dropped in front of my face. I dog-eared the page and set my book down, picking up the flower delicately. The petals were perfect, not one out of place, and every thorn had been removed. Glancing over at Phil, I was met with the sight of him sucking on his pointer finger determinedly.

"Did you remove these thorns yourself?"

Phil flashed me a sheepish smile.

"Maybe."

I chuckled and he joined in. He sent me a love filled glance and I returned it, bringing the bloom up to my face. I inhaled the sweet and distinct scent of rose.

"Thank you, Phil."  
"You're welcome, love. Like I said; you're not alone. You'll never be alone again."

* * *

**A/N:** My first ever Phanfic! I hope you enjoyed. If not, take in mind that these are the blabbles of a 13 yr old at 6 AM. I hope to be a published author one day, so please give me feedback! Tell me whether I have a chance or whether I should just give up now because I will never achieve my dream. Yeah. Thank you! I hope you have a splendid rest of your day/night/its-3-AM-what-do-I-call-this!


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